His Montana Homecoming Read online

  “I’m sure it’s on its way soon.” Why couldn’t she leave him out of it?

  “It better be in my account before I leave.”

  Dale knew this game and didn’t feel like playing. Ronna, his mother, wanted him to ask where she was going. “I’m sure you’ll get it soon.”

  “I won’t be home all next week.” Her voice lilted, begging him to inquire.

  He glanced at Faith, who’d slipped into the driver’s seat of her car and started the engine. She’d parked close to the storefront in one of the diagonal spaces that bordered Main Street. A couple of women on horseback tethered their animals to a railing in front of a diner and then went inside. Now, that wasn’t a sight he was used to seeing.

  “Okay, Mom. I’ve got to go.” He pulled the collar of his coat closer to ward off the chilly late-afternoon air.

  “Don’t you want to know where I’m going?” Ronna asked.

  Dale shook his head. He never won with her. “Sure. Where are you going?”

  “With friends to New Hampshire to ski.”

  “Great. Have fun.”

  “When you get back to the office, check on that deposit, would you?”

  “Sure.” He sighed. Ronna would never call, herself, hating to appear in need of the money.

  “Dale?”

  “Yes.”

  “Be careful out there.” A hint of real concern swirled in her voice.

  “Thanks, Mom. You, too.” He slipped the phone back into his pocket and climbed into the passenger seat. “Sorry about that.”

  Faith waved his apology aside. “No problem. Everything okay with your mom?”

  “Same as ever.” He had run interference for his parents for as long as he could remember. The middleman between their lives and payments. “She called to let me know she’d be skiing with friends in New Hampshire next week.”

  Faith smiled, but a frown furrowed her brow. “She called you all the way from Hong Kong to tell you that?”

  “My mother’s not in Hong Kong.”

  “She didn’t go with your father?” Faith obviously thought all marriages stayed together or she wouldn’t have asked such a ridiculous question.

  “My parents are divorced, so no.”

  “Oh. That’s too bad.”

  “I suppose.”

  As Faith backed up, Dale looked down the street. Both ends of town had spectacular views of the distant mountain ranges that surrounded this big valley. Beyond the small used-car lot, he spotted a for-sale sign in front of a commercial property.

  “What is that building beyond the car-sales place?”

  “That’s the Jenkins building. Used to be the newspaper office, but that moved into a smaller storefront. Businesses have been in and out of there ever since.”

  “Impressive views.”

  Faith nodded. “Yeah, we’re pretty much surrounded by mountain ranges. Tobacco Root is toward the northwest, the Madison Range is east and we drove through them on our way to the ski resort. Then Snowcrest and Gravelly ranges are south of here.”

  “Pretty isolated though.”

  Faith shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

  Dale understood his father’s choice to set up shop for Eric, but Jasper Gulch had amazing views that didn’t quit. A far different atmosphere from Lone Peak. Jasper Gulch was not high end, but quaint. The difference between real life and the escapism of resort living.

  Of course, that could all change if tourists descended on this little town as Faith said they aimed for. Curious, but he hoped they didn’t lose sight of what they had here.

  Jasper Gulch was a diamond in the rough.

  Much like the woman next to him.

  His phone buzzed again with a text message. He pulled it out and texted back.

  “You’re never far from that phone, are you?” Faith asked.

  “Not if I can help it.”

  She made a face. “Not me. I carry one for emergencies, but that’s pretty much it. But then, I don’t have a business to run.”

  It dawned on him that not once had he seen her with a phone. “It’s something I rely on and it’s an efficient use of my time.”

  She shrugged. “What about downtime? You know, like vacations and stuff.”

  He gave her a crooked grin. “Vacations might be out of the office, but the phone goes with me. I have to be connected. Time is money.”

  Faith laughed then. “And money can be a waste of time.”

  Dale opened his mouth to ask what she meant by that, but his phone buzzed again.

  *

  Dale glanced out of the guest-bedroom window. Clouds had covered the moon and stars. It was dark outside. Darkness like he’d never seen before. Pitch-black. Sure, a distant light shone from the barn, and a small cottage lit from within sat on the hillside, but darkness blanketed everywhere else.

  He rubbed his forehead and retreated to the desk where his laptop lay poised and his phone charged. He had work to do. Work he couldn’t concentrate on. He’d excused himself after dinner from the masses of Shaws with paperwork as his excuse. That, and he couldn’t keep his gaze from straying toward Faith all evening.

  Fresh as a mountain stream, she’d bubbled through dinner about their adventure with the flat tire and shopping at the hardware store. He’d caught a couple of hopeful glances exchanged between the mayor and Nadine. And a hard look from Faith’s brother Cord. Good thing Faith had left out the most disturbing part of their day or Dale might be facing a shotgun.

  He never should have kissed her. Amazing as it had been, Dale wasn’t about to play fast and loose with Faith Shaw. He had a hunch that keeping it casual might be tough. She had a sweetness he didn’t want to sour when it came time to part ways. And that time always came.

  Faith didn’t seem too affected by their kiss, as if what happened hadn’t mattered. But it mattered to him and that troubled him even more.

  He glanced at the clothes Faith had picked out for him from the hardware store that now lay scattered on the bed. He hadn’t bothered to put them away. Not much of a jeans guy, he had to admit the brand she’d recommended was comfortable, if a little looser in the seat than what he was used to. He looked down at those jeans he wore with a sweater and checked his watch.

  Maybe a walk outside would clear his restless mind.

  He grabbed his phone then slipped into the lace-up boots and the rugged barn coat Faith insisted he had to have. If nothing else, she’d said he would need a reminder of his heritage in Montana when he returned to New York.

  He’d never thought much about his family’s history until now. He’d always looked toward the future. He wanted to make the Massey empire a grand legacy he could leave to his half brothers to carry on. He’d never have kids of his own. He’d no desire to marry only to end up divorced over and over like his father. His mother had reminded him often enough how much like Julian he was, and Ronna’s words had rooted deep. What his mother didn’t know was that he didn’t want to be like his father.

  Dale admired Julian’s head for business and tried to emulate it. Not a bad thing. But Dale’s word was gold. Once given, he stood by it. His father broke his word as a matter of habit. At Massey International, Dale cleaned up the consequences. He made the hard calls. His father’s personal life was far messier than work. Julian fell in and out of love with the seasons. Like some men changed their wardrobes, his father changed relationships, oftentimes ignoring his sons in the process. Dale had cleaned up some of his brothers’ messes, too.

  Commitment was something Dale didn’t offer a woman. Love couldn’t exist without commitment, so Dale made sure he didn’t fall in love, either. No problems so far. He hadn’t earned his nickname for nothing. With a cold heart came protection.

  Dale exited his room and had walked a couple of steps when he heard the music. A violin, to be exact, and it sounded beautiful. Someone liked classical music. Odd, considering the number of country radio stations he’d clicked through on the drive home.

  Home?

&n
bsp; Since when did he think of Shaw Ranch as home? Dale shook his head and muttered, “Figure of speech.”

  The music stopped midway through a piece. Then it started again. That wasn’t a radio. That was live. Someone played the violin and Dale wanted to know who.

  He stepped carefully, hearing murmurs of conversation floating up from the living room. The Shaw family gathered below to watch TV. He heard the crackle of wood burning in the big stone fireplace and could smell the warm scent of wood smoke.

  The music stopped again, and he heard a feminine-sounding cough. He stood near a door left ajar that led to that violin, so he knocked.

  “Just a minute.” Faith’s voice and then her pretty face when she opened the door, instrument in hand.

  He felt as if he was slipping on ice again. “That was you?”

  She nodded and opened the door wider. “Come on in. I’m practicing.”

  He glanced down the hallway with its wraparound balcony open to the lower level. He really didn’t want her family to think he was putting the moves on her.

  Faith waved away his concern. “I’ll leave the door wide open, don’t worry.”

  He followed her inside.

  “Would you like something to drink? I have pop and iced tea in the fridge.”

  “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  He took in the tiny dorm fridge in the corner under a small countertop and sink. A coffeemaker and containers of coffee and tea bags were neatly nestled in a row.

  “You’re wearing your new jacket.” She sounded pleased.

  “Yes.”

  She lifted the violin to her shoulder. “It looks good on you.”

  “Thanks.” He slipped out of it, draping it over the arm of a puffy couch as he continued his perusal of the space.

  Faith’s room was bigger than his and had the feel of a studio apartment. A very feminine studio painted in light shades of yellow and white where there were no logs or pine paneling. A wrought-iron bed with tons of pillows and an old quilt angled against the opposite corner. A wall of bifold doors hinted at a huge closet before cornering toward a bathroom. Pictures of her family and horses and the mountains plastered the walls.

  He spotted another picture atop a bookcase and walked toward it. A photo of Faith and her sister dressed for an evening out. Faith wore black velvet and her hair had been styled and secured with rhinestones. Her lips smoldered dark red. He knew how soft those lips felt against his own.

  “That was taken in Seattle, when I worked with a symphony there.” She stood next to him.

  “Lovely.” An inadequate response, but all he could manage.

  Dale knew beautiful women. He’d dated plenty of them. But he couldn’t recall ever seeing an expression quite like the one on Faith’s face in the picture. Anticipation and joy and innocence were rolled into one special look for whomever had taken the photo.

  Had there been a man behind the camera lens? Envy seared him quick and sharp.

  “Sit and relax for a bit.” Faith used her bow to point toward the couch. “Or were you going somewhere?”

  “For a walk, but I’d rather hear you play. Will that bother you?”

  She smiled. “Not at all.”

  “Do you play around here, then?” He couldn’t imagine Jasper Gulch having an orchestra, no matter how small. He made himself comfortable on the couch.

  “Bozeman.” She tilted her head against the instrument and studied the sheets of music on a stand in front of her. “You like the classics?”

  “We’ve got a box at the Met and Avery Fisher Hall.” He’d attended his share of operas, plays and concerts.

  Faith’s eyes bulged. “The New York Philharmonic?”

  “That’s the one.” He’d finally managed to impress her. He wouldn’t mind taking her to a concert and watch her eyes light up as she listened.

  “Wow.”

  Dale chuckled.

  No knuckle cracking or stretching, Faith jumped right into playing and her movements were fluid. Slim fingers slid along the strings and her arm dipped and sawed gracefully with the bow. Occasionally, she’d look up at him over the music stand and smile.

  Not the same look as the one in the photo.

  What would it take for Faith to look at him like that? Seriously, he needed to get out of Dodge as soon as possible.

  “Okay, what’s going on in here?” A very deep male voice exaggerated the harsh words.

  Dale looked at Cord Shaw. “Listening to your sister play. She’s good.”

  “Yeah?” Cord tipped his head as if he hadn’t thought about it before. “Wait till you hear her play Granddad’s fiddle. Now, that’s talent.”

  Dale glanced at Faith.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Katie and I are taking Marci home. Thought I’d say good-night and thank you again, Dale, for coming all this way.”

  Dale didn’t quite buy the gratitude. Someone had sent Cord up here to check on them. Dale stood and extended his hand. “You’re welcome.”

  Cord took it in a hard grip, but his eyes turned serious before he let go. “Not too late, Faith.”

  “Yes, sir.” She gave him a mock salute.

  Dale received the message coming from Cord’s eyes and strong handshake loud and clear. Treat his sister with respect or there’d be trouble. Dale had no intention of doing otherwise. “No need to worry. I’m not staying long.”

  Faith’s brother seemed to get his meaning and nodded, satisfied.

  Staying too long in Jasper Gulch had consequences. Namely, wanting more from a violin-playing beauty than he could deliver in return. Dale didn’t do serious relationships. When it came right down to it, he didn’t know how. And that suited him well.

  *

  After Cord had left, Faith continued to play, but her heart wasn’t into it. Not with Dale watching her every move with trepidation. Did he think she’d make him pledge his soul after one kiss? She wouldn’t mind if he did, but still.

  Oh, why did she favor men who wouldn’t want her for the long haul of forever? She sighed and swung her violin from her shoulder.

  “You’re done?” Dale looked disappointed.

  “For now.” Faith settled the wooden instrument into its case. “Are you hungry?”

  Dale’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe.”

  “There should be cookies or something good downstairs in the kitchen. Come on, before they send someone else to check on us.”

  He grabbed his dull red barn coat. The one that looked so good on him. “How about a walk?”

  “Sure.” Faith opened her closet door, grabbed a sweatshirt and slipped it over her T-shirt.

  They headed downstairs. Faith leaned over the back of the sofa and petted Ranger, who sprawled on her mom’s lap. “We’re going for a walk.”

  Her mom smiled. “Be careful.”

  “Of course.”

  Dale stood silently near the foyer waiting. He looked as if he was headed for a dentist’s appointment—stern faced and maybe even a little nervous.

  Grabbing her coat, she asked, “You sure you want to do this?”

  “Fresh air will do me some good. I need to finish up a sales report.”

  “Don’t you ever stop working?”

  He shrugged as he held the front door open for her.

  “So, what is it that you do, anyway?” Faith lifted the hood of her coat and stuffed her hands into mittens.

  “In a nutshell, I manage a company that buys and sells property and convinces other companies to buy and sell property.”

  “Oh. That really clears it up.” Faith laughed. “So, your father owns it?”

  “The shareholders own it. My grandfather started it, my father’s the CEO and I manage the rest.”

  They walked down the paved driveway, the sound of their feet scuffling against the asphalt in the quiet of night. “Do your brothers work with you, too?”

  His breath billowed white in the cold night air. “They’re young.”

  Faith tipped her head. “Like in high
school?”

  “Eric is twenty-five. Jordan is twenty-three and just finished up his studies abroad.”

  “Tell me about them.”

  Dale shrugged. “Not much to tell. We’re not that close. Eric skis all over the world, and Jordan… Well, Jordan is Jordan. A serious kid, he’s worked two internships, in England and Hong Kong, respectively. He stepped into Massey International this past September.”

  “So Jordan takes after you.”

  He looked grim, as if he’d never considered that before.

  Faith moved on. “Is that why we went to that ski resort?”

  “Julian wants to purchase an office in a location that might lure my brother into the business fold. I think it’s a bad idea.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You call your father by his first name?”

  Dale looked even more grim. “Sometimes.”

  Which Massey would get their way? If they had an office near here, maybe Dale would come back. Faith tamped down misplaced hope. Dale said he didn’t ski. Why would he return to Montana? Unless she gave him a reason to…

  They made it to the paddock, and Faith’s horse trotted toward them and nickered. Faith rubbed the mare’s nose. “This pretty lady is Viv. Short for Vivaldi.”

  Dale looked at her mare. “Will she bite?”

  “Not if you’re nice to her.” Faith laughed at Dale’s hesitation. “I’m kidding. Go ahead and give her a pet.”

  Dale stroked the middle of the mare’s dark face down to the white spot at the end of her nose. Viv stepped closer to him for more of the same.

  “She likes you.” The man had a way with females.

  Dale laughed and scratched behind Viv’s ears. “How long have you been playing the violin?”

  “Since I was knee high.”

  “Why that particular instrument?”

  Faith leaned against the fence and watched Viv nuzzle Dale for more attention. “My grandfather on my mom’s side played a mean fiddle. I remember Christmases where he’d play carols and we’d all sing and dance. I wanted to make that kind of magic happen, too, so he taught me. And then I took lessons.”